


Trading Yesterdays

by ilovejared



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comforting Dean, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 21:52:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovejared/pseuds/ilovejared
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the beginning of Season 7. Sam's wall is broken and he's hurting. Together Sam and Dean try to deal with the aftermath.<br/>Oh, and there's lots of showering.<br/>This was also my very first Wincest fanfic, so be gentle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trading Yesterdays

Sam. Wake up Sammy.

Sam moaned. No. Please. He had blacked out. He didn't know for how long but Lucifer must be getting bored with this torture session or he would have never allowed him escape even for a second. For now he was still suspended in the cage, the barbed hooks like mini infernos where they dug into his flesh. Some were deep into his muscles, some just under the surface of the skin so that when he fought to get free, to escape the torment being inflicted upon him, they would rip loose, taking a small part of his body with it. Several hooks hung in the cage, chunks of bloodied flesh on their end. The pain was increasing as he came closer to consciousness. Wave upon wave of agony crashed through his mangled body and he could only gasp. He had no voice left with which to scream.

"Hi Sammy.Welcome back. Ready for another round of fun and games?" Sam was unable to even lift his head. Lucifer had started in on him again. The pain was insidious. It crept up to new heights and his body was covered in a cold sweat. He could feel his mind loosening, wanting to thrash and wail but he did everything he could to not break and give Lucifer that satisfaction. So, he did the only thing he could. The one thing that, when he was at the end of his will to endure, he could focus on and it would allow him to hold on to sanity a little longer. He thought of Dean. Dean, laughing at some silly joke he had made, his green eyes sparkling with mirth. His smile. The little crooked one that could have anyone, man or woman eating out of his hand in a second. Dean's voice soothing him through a nightmare. _Dean_....

"Oh, so we're back to Dean again. Well, if you wanted to see him so bad, why didn't you just ask?"

"Sammy?" Sam managed to open his eyes at the sound of that familiar voice. Dean was standing in front of him, green eyes full of concern.

Sam tried to answer but all he could manage was a croak. His throat was raw from thirst and the constant screaming.

He looked at his brother, knowing this had to be some new form of torture. He couldn't bring himself to care. Just seeing Dean's face again was enough.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice was soft and he touched Sam's hair, gently brushing back the sweaty strands that had fallen over his forehead. He had to reach a little to do it because the chains kept Sam's feet just barely touching the filthy floor of the cage.

"You know why you're here Sammy, right? You deserve this. Every bit of it. Because you're a monster, Sam. It's your fault. You have nobody to blame but yourself." Dean paused as he pulled out a wicked looking knife. The meager light filtering through the cage bars glinted off the serrated blade.

"And just so you know. Just so we're clear. I'm so glad to finally be rid of you."

This time Sam managed to speak. It was barely a whisper. "Dean, no. Don't."

Dean chuckled. "Sammy. You were always my burden to bear but now, finally, I'm free. Free at last!" He ran the tip of the knife down the center of Sam's chest coming to rest just under Sam's navel.

He grinned and it was a feral grin like nothing Sam had ever seen before and then he knew. This was Alastair's creation he was facing not his brother.

"You always wanted to know about my time in Hell. Let me show you how I spent the last ten years."

That was when Sam's mind collapsed like a black star imploding upon itself. His mouth opened in a soundless scream....

"Sammy! Wake up. Come on Sam."

At the sound of Dean's voice Sam's eyes flew open and he reacted on pure base instinct. His fist flew out and connected with Dean's jaw. Dean was so surprised he didn't even see the next blow coming. He went reeling back as Sam's ham-sized fist connected solidly with his nose.

"Ow! Dammit Sam! Stop!"

  
Sam's chest was heaving and in one fluid motion he rolled off the bed putting it between himself and Dean. He grabbed his small hunting knife from the bedside table and extended it toward Dean. "Stay away from me!"

"Okay, Sammy. You're okay. You're safe. We're at Bobby's. You were dreaming, Sammy. That's all." Dean tried to keep his voice low and soothing.

Eyes wild, still brandishing the knife, Sam looked at Dean like he was really seeing him for the first time.

"We're at Bobby's?"

Dean nodded, cautiously moving around the small bed. With every step he took, Sam took a corresponding step backwards until his back was against the wall. Sam swallowed heavily and asked in a small voice, "You're really here Dean? You didn't leave?" Sam sounded so lost, like a small boy, and Dean just wanted to smash his hand into something, anything, to wipe away that feeling of helplessness he had every time he looked at Sam these days. How in the hell was he possibly going to fix _this_?

He took a deep breath and said softly, "Sammy, I'm not going to leave you. I promise you. We are going to find some way to make this right. Okay? I promise."

Sam lowered the knife slowly then looked at it like he'd never seen it before. He let it drop to the floor then ran both hands through his hair shakily. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, Sam. This isn't your fault." Dean sat down on the bed Sam had just vacated. " Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." Sam's answer came out a little too quick. "I can't. Not right now." He peered at Dean and the darkening bruise on his cheek. "I didn't mean to hit you. It was just a reflex."

"I'm fine Sam." He decided he was just going to try to keep Sam occupied today. When Sam was ready to talk about Hell he would. He wasn't going to push him. " Look, why don't you take a shower? I'll go make some breakfast and then you can help me with the Impala today. Sound like a plan?" Sam knew that Dean was trying to sound cheerful for his sake so he gave Dean a wan smile and said, " Sure, Dean."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sam stood under the warm spray of the shower letting it work on his aching muscles. The memories of Hell were so vivid that they left a physical impression that was hard to get rid of. Sometimes he would be so cold that he thought he would never be warm again. Other times he felt like he was going to smother from the heat, the stench that would leave his throat and lungs raw. He turned so that he could put his face directly under the spray and.....his arms were wrenched over his head so violently he felt his right shoulder dislocate. The chains encircling his wrists dug into the tender flesh cruelly and he could feel the blood running down his arms.

"Good morning, Sammy. Sleep well?" Lucifers voice was right in his ear and he pressed Sam's body into the bars of the cage. Lucifer's mouth was right next to Sam's ear. His next words made Sam tremble uncontrollably. "I'm the one who's never going to leave you, Sam. Dean will eventually. When he's had his fill of the cuckoo's nest, of course. So I'll have to do what I can to speed this crazy train along. Then it'll just be you and me again, Sammy. And we'll do all those things you've always wanted to do with Dean. Every single one." His tongue touched the outside of Sam's ear and Sam tried to pull away but there was nowhere for him to go. He was trapped. He took a deep breath and stopped struggling. Tried to take control.

"No", Sam gasped squeezing his eyes shut. "It's not real. You're not real. I'm at Bobby's."

Lucifer continued on as if Sam hadn't spoken. "I know you, Sam. Better than anyone. Even better than Dean. I know everything that's in that fucked-up mind of yours. Go ahead, Sam. Tell him. Share. Tell him how you want to be so much more than his baby brother. Kissing and touching's fine but you want to do it all, don't you Sammy? And when you tell him, that will be the last straw. The one that breaks the camel's back." He pressed even closer to Sam, if that was possible, and Sam felt the tears he had been struggling to hold back, begin to fall. "Do you really think that Dean enjoyed any of your little shenanigans? That's why he never turned on the light. He didn't want to see you, Sammy, because you disgust him. When you were touching him in the dark he could at least pretend it was some bitch he'd picked up. He never wanted any of it. He never wanted _you_. Somewhere, deep inside, you know it. You just don't want to admit it. But he has no idea what a sick fuck, you really are, does he Sammy?"

Sam tried to block out the words. They hurt worse than the dislocated shoulder. Lucifer had always known his weakness. It was Dean. Always Dean.

Sam opened his eyes, gasping. He was sitting on the floor of the shower and the water was just beginning to run cold. He probed at his shoulder but all that was there was a lingering tenderness. He could taste the salt of his tears mingling with the spray and he choked them back. _Dammit_. He grasped the spigots above his head and hauled himself back to his feet. He couldn't let Dean know he'd had another flashback. If he didn't get moving, Dean would be up here to see what the hell was taking him so long.

He made it to the sink and braced himself against it with his hands, placing his forehead on the mirror. It was cool to the touch, even with the steam swirling in the bathroom, and if felt good against his aching head.

Dean's voice came from the base of the stairs. "Sammy! You okay?"

Looking into the face of the broken man staring back at him, he yelled back, "Yeah, I'm fine. Be right there."

Now he just had to make Dean believe it.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few minutes later, Sam came walking down the stairs and he followed the scent of something delicious. The scene that greeted him made him smile, really smile, and shake his head.

Dean was cooking pancakes and singing along, badly and offkey, to Metallica. Sam's eyebrows practically disappeared into his hairline when Dean flipped the pancake with simply a flick of his wrist. If Dean had turned at that moment he would have seen what he referred to as the 'Sammy' smile. Head tilted to one side, dimples popping and white teeth showing in a smile that could make anyone it was leveled at forget everything but the man in front of them. As it was, he practically jumped out of his skin when Sam cleared his throat.

Sam leaned against the door jamb, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, hey there, Betty Crocker."

Dean turned around and took in Sam's still damp hair, bare feet, and the lingering ghost of that smile. Sam was pale, too pale. Dean tried not to let his concern show. Damn it, he was going to give Sam a good day. That was his mission. Bobby would be gone for the next couple of days and Dean had decided they were going to take some down time while they could. Sam needed it. The purple shadows under his eyes confirmed it.

"Blueberry pancakes, Sammy. Grab a cup of caffeine and have a seat." He put 3 gigantic pancakes on a plate and set them down with a flourish in front of Sam.

"Wow. What's next? Turn down service? Chocolates on my pillow?"

"Bite me. Or better yet, bite them. You haven't been eating enough." Sam realized that Dean wasn't going to move until he had tasted the food in front of him. He took a bite and looked up in surprise.

"These are good." He took another bite. "Really good." Sam dug in with more gusto. He hadn't realized how hungry he actually was. Leave it to Dean to know just what would whet his appetite.

Dean, satisfied that Sam was eating, got his own stack and added a few sausages he had cooked for himself. Ever since the wall had come down, Sam had even less of  an appetite for meat than before. Especially any kind of red meat. Dean didn't have to ask why. 

They ate in companionable silence. Dean wanted so badly to say something that might make Sam feel better but he knew there was nothing to say. There were no magic words that were going to help Sam. Nothing that he had found yet. He had always had a plan, no matter what was happening in their insane lives, but this time he was at a loss. They would just have to take it one day, one hour, at a time.

They ended up working on the Impala for most of the day. Sam seemed to be genuinely interested in learning what Dean was doing and why, and Dean was more than happy to show him. If he noticed Sam clutch his head or rub his temples a couple of times, he ignored it. He didn't want to crowd Sam or make him feel like he was watching him too closely. Which of course, he was.

So it was not surprising that he picked up on what Sam was doing early in the day. He noticed that Sam was acting oddly the second time he went inside to grab a couple more beers. Sam went in with him and Dean handed Sam the beers and said he'd meet him back outside. He saw the panic in Sam's eyes when Sam asked where he was going. Dean had just looked at him and quietly responded, "I'm going to the can, Sammy." Then he'd turned and walked away. When he came out, he almost ran right into Sam who just looked at the floor sheepishly and mumbled, "Sorry." He took every opportunity to brush against Dean, to touch him like he was making sure that Dean was still there. That he was real.

Dean just let it go because whatever made Sammy feel better of safer, that was the order of the day. He tried to limit his trips into the house because he knew that Sam was aware that Dean was onto him. And, he was clearly embarrassed but he wasn't going to stop either. If the situation hadn't been so completely jacked, it might've been funny.

The sun was sinking low in the western sky when Dean told Sam they should probably call it a day. They pushed the impala further back into the garage bay and covered her with a tarp.

Dean glanced over at Sam who was trying to clean some of the grease off his hands. His t-shirt was filthy and he had a smudge down one side of his face. But looking at him, with the breeze ruffling his hair and the dying rays of the sun catching the angles of his face just right, Dean felt an emotion that he hadn't felt in a long time. There hadn't been time lately to feel much of anything except worry or concern or powerlessness in the face of the utter chaos that was their lives. After spending the day with Sam, not talking about anything but the car, coupled with the complete lack or personal space Sam was giving him, Dean only had one thought.

_Sam was still the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on._

At that moment, Sam looked over at him and he must have thought Dean's expression was peculiar. Dean could clearly see the question in his eyes and thank God, or whatever, because he came to the wrong conclusion.

"Dean, I'm okay. I just have a little headache and I'm actually hungry. You want something to eat?"

With a relieved sigh, Dean replied, "Yeah. Good. I'm mean I'm glad you're good. Let's go get cleaned up."

_Fuck._  This was not what Sam needed right now. What he needed was his big brother to be there for him. To make him feel safe. He didn't need this.... whatever this was between them. Not now and not ever.

Sam followed Dean up the stairs and sat down on the floor outside the bathroom door. "You can hit the shower first. Just leave the water running when you're done. I'll just.....uhm, get in." Sam finished lamely.

Dean looked at Sam sitting on the floor, his long legs stretching from one side of the hallway to the other. "Okay, Sammy. I'll yell when it's your turn." Sam didn't look up, just nodded his head.

Dean was in and out of the shower quickly because he didn't want Sam sitting outside the door for too long, He knew what Sam was doing . As long as he was with someone else, maybe there would be no hallucinations or if one started, Dean would be there to help him through it.

What he didn't expect was Sam to be standing in the bathroom door. They'd seen each other naked plenty of times but Dean was just a tad uncomfortable when not twenty minutes ago he'd been appraising his brother's looks like some love-struck girl. Dean hastily grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. Sam just stood there, an inscrutable look on his face. He had already divested himself of his t-shirt and jeans and was now clad only in his boxer-briefs. All Dean could see when he looked at Sam was that broad chest and the defining muscles of his abdomen. He didn't want to look at Sam's face because he was afraid of what he might see there. Instead he brushed by Sam, eyes on the floor.

"I'll wait right here."

"Thanks." Sam paused and turned back to Dean. "It just make me feel safer. Being with you, I mean. It's like when we were kids and you'd tell me you'd keep the monsters away. I feel like a damn baby but I just need that right now."

"I know, Sam. And you're dealing with something nobody else on the planet has ever dealt with, that would send anybody else drooling to the looney bin. So I get it and it's okay."

Sam just nodded his gratitude. Sliding his briefs down his legs, he realized that Dean hadn't looked him in the eye through the whole exchange. Maybe Lucifer was right about this one thing. Maybe Dean was disgusted by him and more importantly by what they had done. He couldn't think about it right now because it hurt too much. It hurt to think Dean might regret anything. He stepped under the spray and hurriedly began to lather himself up. After this morning he didn't want to spend any more time here than necessary.

Sam could see Dean's silhouette through the thin shower curtain and true to his word he hadn't moved. Not at all. He was like a statue.

Sam turned off the water and parted the curtain warily. It was freezing in here. What was going on?. He had left a clean pair of jeans hanging on the towel rack and pulled them on without bothering to towel off. He took one cautious step toward Dean. He still hadn't moved and Sam felt his stomach fall. The cold was rapidly turning the water droplets on his body to ice. God help him. Lucifer was here.

"Dean?' Sam whispered. Was this a hallucination or a memory? Was he even still at Bobby's? He closed his eyes, swallowing heavily, then opened them. Dean was gone and in his place stood Lucifer.

"Howdy, Sam. Did you really think your bro' could keep the big bad wolf away?" He shook his head, smiling sadly. "Sammy, I've told you that _we_ are soulmates. Your brother doesn't even want to look at you. Not really. You're just dead weight and he knows he'd be better off without you." Sam had backed up as far as he could and he was against the shower wall. There was nowhere else to go. He slowly slid to the floor of the shower.

Lucifer kneeled between Sam's legs, his hands on Sam's thighs. Where he touched him was so cold it burned even through the layer of denim. "You're mine Sammy. You'll always be mine."

"Sam! Look at me! Dammit Sammy it's me." Dean was shaking Sam's shoulders roughly and when Sam opened his eyes, it was Dean's face he was looking into. He tried to read what was in his eyes, but Sam only saw unwavering concern.

Sam began to shiver uncontrollably. "Dean....s-s-so cold."

Putting his arms around his shoulders, he helped Sam to his feet. "Okay Sammy, up and at 'em. Let's get you warmed up." Sam realized he was still naked and wet and Dean had grabbed a towel and was trying to dry him off. Grabbing the towel he said, "I'm s-s-sorry Dean. I c-can do it."

"Okay, now you're acting like you're six. For god's sake, Sam I just want to get you into bed." Dean realized what he had said. "You know under the covers where you'll be warm."

Sam was looking at him strangely but just nodded and let Dean lead him to the bedroom across the hall. Dean yanked back the blankets and Sam climbed in burrowing into the covers which Dean promptly pulled to his chin.

"Better?" Dean asked.

"Getting there", Sam replied shakily. He was warmer but the cold went all the way to his bones.

"I'll be right back. I just want to grab something to help warm you up from the inside." Before Sam could protest, he was out the door. He must have run all the way because he was back before Sam could count to thirty. He had two glasses and a bottle of Jack. He splashed some in a glass and sat beside Sam on the bed. "Drink this Sam."

He sat up just far enough so that he could hold the glass and drink. He downed it in one gulp. Dean took the empty glass and refilled it. Sam drank this one just as quickly.

Looking at Dean, he asked, "Aren't you having any?"

Dean poured his glass full to the brim and drank half of it in one swallow. "Jesus, Sam. You scared the hell out of me."He drank the rest of the amber liquid. "I tried Sammy. I tried to pull you back but you just collapsed and it was like you couldn't hear me. It was Lucifer wasn't it?"

Sam nodded. "I don't know what it is with showers but that's the second time today." He laughed weakly. "I think I'll just stick with sponge baths for a while."

"The same thing happened this morning, didn't it?" Sam's silence spoke volumes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Sam took the bottle from Dean's hand and took three long pulls. Dean arched an eyebrow as Sam handed it back.

"Dude, slow down. You've always been a lightweight." Dean sat the bottle on the bedside table and looked at Sam. "You'll be asleep in five minutes."

"No. I won't Dean", Sam protested. He was feeling a little light-headed but he needed the courage to say what he needed to. "I want... I need to tell you some things." His voice was almost a whisper. "About Hell."

Dean looked at Sam steadily. "Okay."

"First, though," Sam took a deep breath, summoning his courage, before he could continue. "Will you lay with me?"

Dean's eyes widened slightly and Sam went on hurriedly. "I mean, you know, like we used to when we were kids and, you know, before Detroit....." Sam's voice trailed off. His eyes met Dean's. There was trust and fear and something else Dean couldn't name. Dean remembered all the times they had shared a bed as kids, holding onto each other because they were each the other's anchor in their crazy world. And the night before Sam had said yes to Lucifer, they had lain together in each other's arms knowing this was the last time they would be able to do so. They had kissed each other tentatively at first, their mouth's exploring the taste and feel of the other's, tongues meeting, letting their mouths say silently what they couldn't say aloud. They had touched each other trying to memorize each line and contour of the other's face. His mind strayed to the one other time they had shared a bed as adults but he pushed that memory away. Sammy was asking for comfort and safety. Nothing else.

Sam's eyes followed Dean as he moved around the bed. He was still wearing nothing but a damp towel which he pulled from his waist before he crawled under the blankets to lay beside his brother. He lay on his back, eyes on the ceiling. Sam had turned on his side, so he couldn't see his face. He'd let Sam tell him exactly what he wanted from him. He knew this was difficult for his brother and he didn't want to make it more so.

"The worst wasn't the physical torture." His voice was so soft that Dean had to strain to hear. He turned on his side and propped himself up with one elbow. He leaned forward slightly so he could hear Sam's next words.

"You know what it's like, Dean. To endure so much pain, day after day, hour after hour, minute after minute. It would get to the point where it was too much. I was going to lose my mind. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction though. So I would go inside my mind. My happy place, I guess." Sam gave a short laugh. "It was you Dean. I'd think about you, about us, just being together, talking, doing something normal. But he knew everything Dean. Everything. And he would use it against me." His breath caught in his throat and Dean instinctively laid his hand on Sam's arm. He didn't expect Sam to grab that hand and pull it around him so that Dean was laying against him. Dean sucked in his breath but Sam didn't seem to notice. He was gripping Dean's hand like a vise and he was beginning to shiver again so Dean pressed even closer trying to share his body heat.

"It would be Lucifer torturing me and then he would become you. And you would be doing....things to me and telling me how I was nothing to you. That I had always been nothing but a burden and you were glad I was gone. That you were finally free." His grip on Dean's hand had become painful but Dean couldn't bring himself to say a word. He felt like he couldn't draw enough air into his lungs.

"You said you were going to show me everything Alastair taught you." Sam swallowed convulsively. "And you did Dean. And that's what I've been dreaming and I just want it to stop. I can't seem to make it stop."

"Jesus." Dean could barely talk around the lump in his throat. "Sammy, l want you to look at me." He untangled his hand from Sam's and gently turned Sam's face to his. Green eyes looked deeply into hazel ones that were bright with unshed tears. "You listen to me. You have never been a burden, Sammy. Never. I wouldn't take back one minute with you. Not one. And I'm going to find a way to make this go away. I promise."

Sam just smiled sadly and turned away pulling Dean against him again. "Tired, Dean. So tired."

"Go to sleep Sammy. I've got you."

Sam was asleep in a matter of seconds. Dean could always tell. He knew his breathing patterns. He knew everything about his little brother. He took a minute to study his Sam up close. Something he never had time to do. He remembered the feeling that had come over him in the yard. It might sound ridiculous but Sam truly was beautiful.

He remembered the first time he had really noticed Sam. Not as his brother but as a physical presence. It had been a few months before he had ditched them for Stanford. He had been walking back from the diner and he had seen Sam talking with some girl who was staying at the motel with her parents. Sam was leaning back against a picnic table and she was looking up at him with something akin to awe. And all of a sudden it hit Dean like a punch in his gut. He could see Sam through this girl's eyes. His brother had shot up about eight inches in the last year so he towered over her. She must have said something funny because Sam threw his head back and laughed. And there was no caution in it, just joy. He was all impossibly white teeth and flashing dimples and the sound of that laugh tore right through Dean, right to his heart. He leaned in close and whispered something in the girl's ear and he could have sworn he had felt her little shiver of delight all of the way across the motel parking lot. Then Sam had looked over and saw Dean and the shutters came down over those amazing eyes and Sam had turned and started walking the girl back to her room he had supposed. Dean had stood there feeling like a total idiot and he had teased Sam mercilessly later about the girl until Sam was good and mad. Instead of feeling satisfied, it had made him feel slightly sick.

Now looking at the man his brother had become, everything he had been through, he realized that Sam had never lost that part of himself that wanted to believe in the best in people. Even Cas who had brought his wall down. Sam had been the only one who had tried to reach him and he had succeeded because that was who Sam was. He didn't deserve this. Sam had sacrificed everything and dammit why couldn't he catch one break? Just one. Dean realized that the feelings he had repressed for so long were flooding back. The gate had opened twice. Once after they had defeated Famine and Sam had gone through withdrawal from demon blood once again. That's when it had opened the widest. And then the night before Detroit.

The truth was he needed Sam every bit as much as Sam needed him. Maybe more.

Sam moaned slightly in his sleep and his face turned towards Dean again. He ran his fingers through Sam's hair marveling at how soft it felt against his fingers. How many times had he wrapped his hands in a woman's hair while he kissed her and pretended it was Sam? How many times had he had a woman's mouth on him, his fingers digging into her hair as he thrust into her mouth and pretended it was Sam? And he remembered that night in the dark when their need for each other had exploded and Sam had kissed his way softly down Dean's chest, across the muscles of his abdomen and those silken strands had trailed across his body igniting nerve endings, caressing him until he finally found what it was like to have Sam's lips around him, his fingers tangled in that sleek mass as he came and came and came into his brother's mouth.

_Jesus_. He needed to stop this. After everything, after losing Sam for a over a year, he could finally admit that this was what he needed. His brother was his world. It might be fucked up but there it was. He needed him like he needed food and air. It sounded sappy, hell it sounded insane, but if Dean Winchester had a soul mate, he was holding him in his arms. But that didn't mean his brother felt the same. And Dean was going to do what he always did. He was going to do what was best for Sam. And that was not some totally screwed-up incestuous relationship with his big brother.

Laying his head on the pillow next to Sam's he wrapped his arms and pulled Sam tight against him.

"It's going to be all right Sammy. I'm going to make it all right."

Dean fell asleep with Sam's hair cushioning his cheek inhaling Sam's scent and he couldn't help feel a little guilty at how happy he was at that moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Dean's eyes snapped open. One minute he was sleeping and the next he was awake. Hunter's had a sixth sense. You came awake in a second when you felt something was wrong. It could mean the difference between life and death.

He knew instantly what had wakened him. The bedside lamp was still on, but even if it had been pitch black he would have known it was Sam that had roused him. Sam had thrown off the blankets and even if he couldn't see the tension in his body, Dean could feel it. Every muscle stood out in stark relief. His neck was thrown back and the tendons were like taut ropes. Sam's eyes were squeezed shut but that didn't stop the tears that were coursing down his face. His hands were clenched into fists so tightly that blood was dripping from the crescents his fingernails were making in the flesh of his palms. His breath was coming in short gasps and Dean couldn't quite make out the words that were being wrenched from between his clenched teeth. When he realized the choked words coming from Sam he felt his blood run cold.

"Please. No. No. Dean. Don't. Hurt. Me. Anymore. Please. Deaaannnn..."

His body was convulsing and Dean was trying to hold him down but Sam was a big guy and strong. The heart-breaking litany continued while Dean spoke his own, trying to reach Sam through the nightmare he was experiencing.

"Sammy, it's okay. I've got you. I've got you. I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe, Sammy. I'm here." It seemed like an eternity passed in those few minutes while Dean was trying to keep Sam from hurting himself. Trying to soothe him into consciousness. Then it was over. Sam's eyes snapped open and they focused on Dean. He wrenched himself away from him, "NO!" but Dean grabbed his arms, looking at him calmly.

"Sam. It's your Dean. I'm not going to hurt you."

Looking around in confusion, his eyes finally returned to Dean. "My Dean?" He took a deep, shuddering breath and repeated almost reverently. "My Dean."  
"I'm going to get you some water. Okay?"

Sam merely nodded, oblivious to the tears still streaming down his cheeks. Dean hurried across the hall and ran the cold water filling a large glass and wetting a wash cloth.  
He sat the water glass on the bedside table and using the cold cloth wiped the sweat and tears from his brother's face. He carefully wiped the blood from Sam's hands wincing at his sharp inhalation of pain. He then handed the glass to Sam and he downed it in three large gulps.

"It looks like being with me isn't enough to keep the boogeyman at bay. I'm sorry Sam."

Shaking his head, he merely said, "You were here when I woke up, Dean. That's what matters."

Dean got up from the bed. "Let me just get something on." Before he could walk away Sam caught Dean's hand in his. "Dean, just stay with me right now. Okay?"

He pulled Dean down beside him and Dean held his breath when Sam raised one hand to his face, lightly stroking his stubbled cheek before running his thumb over Dean's full bottom lip. Dean sat absolutely still almost afraid to breathe.

A slight smile turned up one corner of Sam's mouth and he asked softly. "Is what you said true? Are you my Dean?"

Dean felt like there was no oxygen in the room. He looked into his little brother's haunted eyes and choked out,"Yes."

Sam leaned forward and touched his lips lightly to Dean's. "Then make me your Sam. Make me forget."

Sam took Dean's face in his hands and kissed him again. Sam's lips moved on Dean's slowly, thoroughly, his teeth nipping at Dean's bottom lip, his tongue licking and caressing until Dean responded by parting his own lips. Sam's tongue was exploring, swirling over the roof of his mouth and then Dean met Sam's tongue with his, deepening the kiss. 

Sam moaned deep in his throat and it was the sexiest sound Dean had ever heard. He tore his mouth from Sam's and made a wet line of kisses down his throat feeling the jackrabbit beating of Sam's pulse under his lips. He captured Sam's lips again and pressed him down onto the bed. He pulled back and looked at Sam's mouth, swollen and wet and slightly parted, his eyes with just a hint of dark green surrounding the dark pupils blown with need. The only time they had been together this way had been in the dark and he hadn't actually seen Sam. He let his eyes take in everything from the dark hair curling slightly against his cheeks and neck, the well-muscled chest with the slight dusting of hair, the taut stomach with ab muscles clearly defined. His gaze went lower and he sucked in his breath. He'd seen Sam nude before but never when he was fully aroused and, Jesus, he was big. He ran his fingertips lightly down the center of Sam's chest, across his stomach and down the trail of hair leading to his cock. He pulled lightly, teasingly, at the coarse hair between Sam's thighs, brushed his fingertips around the base, circling but not touching. Not yet. Sam grabbed his arm trying to lead his hand where he wanted, where he needed it to be, thrusting his hips slightly, spreading his legs further apart in an open invitation. He took Sam's hand and kissed the palm where the imprint of his fingernails could still be seen. Then he kissed each fingertip before finally sucking one of Sam's long fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it until Sam was moaning and pleading, "Please, Dean. God...." He looked at Sam's face flushed with hunger, teeth tugging at his lower lip and Dean was achingly hard. He wondered if the sight of his brother sprawled across the bed totally vulnerable, offering him everything was going to make him come right then.

He wanted this to be for Sam, though. So he kissed and licked at Sam's ear and whispered huskily, "Show me what you want."

Sam took Dean's hand and brought it to rest between his legs. "I need to see you Dean. For now." Then he moved his hips and thrust his cock against Dean's hand.

Dean understood. He wanted to be able to see Dean. To know that his was his Dean touching him, stroking him.

He kissed Sam again, deeply, devouring his mouth, plunging his tongue against Sam's giving them both what they craved. He rubbed the head of Sam's cock with his thumb, rubbing the precome into the slit then down his length. He began a rhythm, stroking the length, stopping to squeeze the base, fondling the sensitive tip all the while kissing Sam's swollen lips, swallowing his gasps, and at the same time thrusting his own engorged cock against Sam's side. He felt Sam's hips speed up and his balls draw up tight and he knew that his orgasm was approaching fast. Sam was gripping the sheets and gasping, "Dean....I need...."

Dean's face hovered over Sam's, looking into his brother's eyes and he whispered, "I know, Sammy. Come for me. I want to see you come."

That was all it took. Sam's hips were stuttering. the rhythm lost because his orgasm was exploding and he couldn't think, couldn't breathe, could only gasp, "Yes, yes, yes. _Oh God...Dean_." Dean kept pumping him as he came and until he knew Sam couldn't take anymore.

Sam lay, panting, trying to learn how to breathe normally again. Dean reached across him and picked up the washcloth from the bedside table. Sam hissed as the wet coldness touched his stomach where Dean began cleaning off the sticky white fluid. He sat up, startling Dean, and snatching the cloth from his hands flung it across the room. The next instant Dean found himself flat on his back with Sam looming over him, hands on his wrists, pinning him beneath him. He was still breathing hard, his hair was a tangled mass, sweaty strands falling across his face and he was gazing at Dean so intently that it was now Dean that was finding it difficult to breathe.

"Sammy? You okay?"

Sam tilted his head slightly and let go of Dean's wrists. One corner of his mouth lifted just enough for a dimple to peek through. He kissed Dean, slowly and deliberately, his hands running over Deans biceps and chest. He finally left Dean's lips to kiss the corner of his mouth, then his neck making his way to the tender spot right under his ear. Dean gasped when Sam nipped him, hard, then licked and suckled until Dean thought he would go freaking crazy. His hand went to his own dick, which was so hard it was beginning to be painful and started to pull and stroke. Sam wrapped his own hand around Dean's and slowed down the motion making Dean buck underneath him trying to get more speed, more friction. Then he forced Dean to remove his hand pinning it with his own beside Dean's head. He leaned down to lick Dean's collarbone then back up to his ear. His teeth pulled at Dean's earlobe and then he whispered, "My Dean."

Dean was absolutely sure he was going to spontaneously combust. Sam was licking his way down his body stopping here and there to kiss and nip at points that he somehow knew would drive Dean crazy. He licked and sucked Dean's nipples until Dean was making noises that didn't sound human. He slipped his tongue into Dean's navel and Dean fisted his hands into Sam's hair trying to force him to kiss and lick and suck the one place he seemed to be determined to avoid. Sam ran his hands down Deans thighs, spreading then wider and then he was between them, hands cupping Dean's ass, licking at the soft flesh underneath his balls and his hair was like silk on the sensitive flesh of Dean's inner thighs.

"SampleasepleaseSamohgodgodSam.." He knew he was babbling but he didn't care. Sam lifted his head and be brought his lips to the engorged head of Dean's cock, almost touching but not quite. Then he blew out a soft breath and Dean reared up. "Jesus, Sam. Fuck. Please." Dean had propped himself up on his elbows and he saw Sam lick the precome that was dripping to his stomach now, swirling his tongue around the sensitive head then tracing the thick vein on the underside. In one sudden motion he engulfed Dean's cock letting it slide all the way to the back of this throat. Then he slowly, so fucking slowly, pulled upwards hollowing his cheeks and Dean simply collapsed back on the bed. He continued this same motion, never speeding up, never slowing down, until Dean was sure that his heart was going to stop but at least he'd die happy.

He could feel the tightening of his muscles, the sensation building and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. Then Sam's mouth was gone. Dean moaned, "No." He looked to see what the hell Sam was doing and he almost exploded just from watching Sam suck on one of his own fingers. Then Sam's lips were back and he closed his eyes as he thrust into Sam's mouth. He felt Sam's finger at his opening and his hips thrashed at what Sam was doing. He had one hand at the base of his cock squeezing to hold back his orgasm while he fingered Dean, pushing in slightly while Dean fucked his mouth in earnest. Dean had hold of his hair again and was pulling and tugging at it and moaning over and over, "Sammy, Sammy." Every time Dean's hips rocked back against the bed he allowed his finger to slip in just a little bit more. Finally, Sam's finger was all the way in and then Dean felt that fingertip brush against something inside of him and Sam let up on squeezing the base and, oh god, he was doing something with his tongue and, fuck, he was stroking that spot over and over and "SamSamSam" Dean came so explosively that he thought for a minute his heart had stopped. All he could feel was wave after wave of sensation and Sam was swallowing and sucking and doing everything to heighten each wave. Finally, the orgasm subsided and he felt a heaviness on his chest. He opened his eyes and Sam was there, face propped in his hands, looking at him all flushed skin and soft eyes, an enigmatic smile on his face.

Dean still couldn't think coherently so he just said ,"What?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I like your freckles."

Maybe the force of his orgasm had blown out his eardrums. "You what?"

"I like your freckles. I've always wanted to tell you that." He looked at Dean like he was sizing up an ice cream sundae with whipped cream and a cherry on top. "You don't just have them on your face you know. You have them all over. One day soon I'd like to kiss every one of them. It might take a while." With that, he cocked an eyebrow and looked at Dean with that damn smile that Dean hadn't seen in, well he couldn't remember how long it had been. Not wanting to say anything to make said smile disappear too quickly, he cleared his throat. "Well, uh, okay." He paused a minute clearing his throat again. "Well, you..uhm, you leave your hair the way it is. You know. Long." Dean thought he sounded like an idiot.

It was Sam's turn to be surprised. "Huh."

"That's all you got? Huh?"

Sam sat up keeping one hand on Dean's stomach "I just never thought I'd ever be sitting at Bobby's with you, naked, after mind-blowing sex, discussing your freckles and my hair."

Running his hand through his hair, Dean sat and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Sammy, I don't really know what to say." It was beginning to sink in, what had happened, what they had done. "Is this really what you want?" He motioned back and forth between the two of them.

Sam's smile vanished in an instant and Dean wanted to take the words back because the answer was obvious. But protecting Sam was so ingrained in his personality that he couldn't help it. And for a larger portion of his life he'd felt like he'd been protecting Sam from him. From this.

"Don't you dare regret this Dean. Don't you dare. I'll tell you what I want. I want you. I've always wanted you. And I know you've always wanted me." Dean looked at Sam not doubting for a second that Sam knew. He started to say something but Sam continued before he could get it out. "Just shut up for a minute and listen. I don't know what's going to happen to me. I could be dead next week or in a coma or trapped in a fucking nightmare where I get to relive Hell for the rest of my life. So you know what I'm going to do? I'm not going to worry about right and wrong and normal because I know that's what you're thinking. You know what? Looking at the past couple of years this is about the most normal thing to happen to us." He paused making sure he had Dean's full attention. " What? God or angels are going to smite us or we're going to go to Hell? That's what passes as everyday normal for us! I don't give a shit what anybody else thinks if there was even anyone else to care." He laid his forehead against Dean's, his hands on his shoulders. "I know you're not the sharing, chick-flick moment kind of guy and I'm not asking you to be. But I'm going to be who I am while I'm still me and I'm still sane. I'm going to say the things I've always wanted to say to you and do the things I've always wanted to do with you." Sam paused again, taking a deep breath, hoping that Dean wasn't going to shut him out. He leaned back so he could look into Dean's eyes and cupping his face in his hands, he said simply, "I love you. I always have and I always will." He kissed Dean lightly on the lips then walked across the hallway. Dean was still standing, rooted to the spot thinking about everything Sam had just said. And he was right.

Why shouldn't they grab what little happiness they could? Why should they beat themselves up over something that felt so completely right? Dean heard the water running and hurried across the hall to check on Sam.

Sam was standing staring at the shower spray. He turned to look at Dean with a hint of shame in his eyes. Dean understood immediately. "Come on Sammy. Let 's get cleaned up then we'll get us some food. I'm starving."

They were in and out in less than five minutes because Dean could feel how uncomfortable Sam was. They stood in the kitchen eating enormous sandwiches and chips from a bag. They didn't say much because they were each lost in their own thoughts. Dean had decided that Sam was going to see a different side to him. He had always tried to be the protective big brother and that part would never change but he had never let Sam see his emotions. Not the ones he tried to keep buried. Why should he treat a stranger better than the person he loved most in the entire universe?

They found themselves back in the bedroom. Sam sat down heavily on the bed rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Sammy? You okay?" Dean asked, the concern evident in his voice.

"Just a little headache. I'll be all right."

"I'll go get you some aspirin or something. Just lay down."

Because his head was really starting to pound he did what Dean asked. He closed his eyes and he felt the difference this time. He actually felt reality shift.

Opening his eyes, he found himself not in the bed, but downstairs on Bobby's couch. He was fully clothed and the house was dark except for the scant light shining in from the kitchen. He heard someone moving around so he called out. "Dean?"

He got no answer. He couldn't see anyone. On the kitchen counter were the remains of their dinner. The voice behind him made him jump and turn.

"Sam, Sam , Sam. I told you that if you shared your sick little fantasies with Dean that he would leave. I warned you. But you just couldn't help yourself, could you?" Lucifer laughed softly. "You did in a couple of hours what I thought would take me weeks, maybe months."

Sam shook his head. "No."

"Yes, Sammy. He's gone and he won't be back this time. He's done. He's tired of having such a fucked-up little brother."

Sam shut his eyes, shaking his head. "No, no, no..." He couldn't stop denying what was his greatest fear. Dean lost to him. Forever.

Lucifer was pressed up against Sam effectively immobilizing him against the counter. His lips were inches from Sam's and his breath stank of sulphur. "Now it's just you and me Sammy. Forever. The things we're going to do. We'll start again with biology 101. We're going to have so much fun."

He felt a cool touch on his brow he heard someone speaking saying the same thing over and over like a prayer.  
"Sammy, please. Wake up. Please. Please."

He opened his eyes and Dean's relief was palpable. "Come on. Let's get you off the floor." Dean helped Sam over to the bed sitting beside him. "Sammy?"

"I'm okay. I'm sorry."

"Dammit, Sam, quit saying your sorry." Sam glanced up in surprise. "You're always apologizing and I want you to stop. What are you apologizing for? The fact that you can't control these memories or hallucinations or whatever they are? Or because you think I'm going get tired of this and leave?" Sam looked away and Dean knew that he had hit the nail on the head. "God, Sam don't you know how much you mean to me? Or maybe you don't. You listen to me. I don't care how long this takes. _I will not leave you_."

"It just seems so real when he's here, Dean. And the worst Hell I can imagine is a world without you in it."

Dean didn't know what else to say. How could he make Sam understand that his version of Hell was the same one Dean experienced in his worst nightmares? So he did the only thing he could think of and kissed Sam softly.

He wasn't prepared for Sam's response. Sam's arms came around his body, crushing against him. He angled his head so that his mouth slanted across Dean's, his tongue finding it's way between Dean's lips and plundering his mouth. He wanted to erase Lucifer's memory and he couldn't get enough of Dean's lips, Dean's tongue, Dean's taste. His fingers found the hem of Dean's t-shirt and slipped under it where he could feel the muscles of his chest, the smoothness of his stomach. He pushed the shirt up and over Dean's head throwing it to the ground. He could see Dean's erection pressing against the tight denim and he cupped it with his hand, his thumb massaging the head that was just visible over the waistband of his jeans. He fumbled with the button and the zipper and Dean groaned when Sam touched him.

"Take these off Dean." While he hurriedly complied Sam stood and did the same with the loose fitting cotton pants he had been wearing. His cock sprung free and all Dean could think about was tasting it. He placed his hands on the backs of Sam's thighs pulling him to him. Dean's hands roamed over his thighs, his back. He cupped his hands around Sam's ass bringing his erection to his mouth but instead of taking it in his mouth he kissed Sam's hipbone, licked at his balls. Sam groaned clasping the back of Dean's head in his hand and pushing his cock against Dean's lips. Dean let him rub against his mouth but didn't open to let him in. Sam looked down and saw his engorged tip against Dean's lips, wet with mingled fluid from the both of them and he could only moan.

Dean clasped the muscles of Sam's ass tighter and opened his lips just enough to lap at him with his tongue. Sam thought he was going to pass out if Dean didn't take him in and finally his lips parted and he slid into that wet heat. Dean was still amazed at how big Sam was and he felt him touch the back of this throat. Then Sam was thrusting hard and Dean could taste the salty liquid that was leaking out. He loved the taste of Sam, his scent. He felt Sam's thighs begin to quiver and was surprised when Sam pulled out. He looked up and the hunger, the longing he saw in Sam's eyes made him shiver.

"Lie down Dean", he whispered.

"Sam?"

"Please."

 Dean complied and Sam slid his body the length of Dean's until they were face to face. Dean entwined his fingers in Sam's hair pulling his mouth to his. Sam was moving his hips so that their erections rubbed together and the friction was maddening. Sam tore his mouth from Dean's and kissed his ear. Down his throat, stopping to lick here, to nibble there. His tongue was back, darting in and out of his ear in quick little jabs. Their hips were moving together and Dean thought that he had never felt such overwhelming need with anyone. Only Sam.

Sam was whispering in his ear now, words coming out quick and short like he had no air to breathe.

"I can't get enough of you Dean. I need...I want to be inside of you, a part of you. I need you. Only you. Please Dean. Please." Dean's head was reeling from Sam's desperate pleas and all he could do was moan, "Jesus, _yes_."

Sam brought his mouth back to Dean's and all the passion, all the hunger , the need from all the years of wanting was in that kiss. It made Dean's head spin. He met Sam's tongue with this own thinking that of course Sam's kisses would make him feel like his world was slowing to a halt, that it could explode and he wouldn't care. This was Sam.

Releasing Dean's mouth, Sam whispered, "Don't move." That wasn't a problem because Dean didn't think he could move even if a host of demons came howling up the stairs. He followed Sam with his eyes marveling at how his muscles flexed and glistened as he hurried across the room. He quickly found what he wanted from his duffel, a small tube. He shrugged his shoulders looking slightly embarrassed. "I always had some of this on hand just in case. You know...after that night. Well, in case....we did....this."

Dean didn't even get a chance to ask the question that was on his lips before Sam's mouth was back on his, moving, caressing, igniting sensations again that Dean had never felt before. Sam's hand was moving impatiently down Dean's body stroking his nipples, along the line of his hips until it gripped his shaft, stroking the length of him then moving to cup his balls. He felt Sam's finger skim the sensitive flesh underneath them before moving to his entrance and teasing the opening making Dean groan in anticipation. Sam's finger slid just past the opening, slick and searching, moving in and out, slowly, Jesus, so slowly. When he added a second finger, Dean gasped and rolled his hips trying to force Sam to push harder, faster. Through it all Sam was kissing and licking his lips, his jawline, his earlobe, nipping here and sucking there. When Dean felt a third finger slide in, he couldn't wait any longer. His hand found his aching cock and he wrapped his hand around himself pumping hard, hips meeting Sam's fingers, straining for release. Sam pulled his fingers free leaving Dean feeling empty and wanting so much more. He wrapped his hand around Dean's, stroking Dean's hard cock before removing both their hands.

"Not yet Dean", he breathed.

His body moved over Deans and he could feel Sam stroking himself then positioning the head of his cock at Dean's entrance. He pushed against it entering his brother slowly just as he had with his fingers. He heard Dean's sharp exhalation and stopped. "Am I hurting you? Do you want me to stop?"

Dean shuddered wanting, needing all of Sam. "Please, Sam..."

That choked plea was all Sam needed. He pushed until he was buried in Dean's tightness and heat. He tried to remain still to give Dean's body time to adjust but Dean dug his hands into Sam's hips, urging him to move, _move_.

"My Dean. Tell me. Say it", Sam pleaded.

"I'm your's, Sammy. Always."

Sam looked at Dean and swirled his hips, causing Dean's eyes to flutter close. He had never felt closer to Dean as he did at that moment both of them connected to each other, not only their hearts and souls, but their bodies. One an extension of the other and both of them wanting nothing more than to stay like this forever.

They began a rhythm, Dean's hips rising up to meet Sam's thrusts, every sensation heightened by the bond they had together. A bond that neither Heaven nor Hell hand been able to break.

Sam felt his muscles begin to tighten signaling the approach of his orgasm. Dean's hand was around his cock pulling and stroking in time with Sam. Shifting his hips for a different angle caused Sam to hit that spot deep inside Dean that caused him to writhe underneath Sam, to plead for Sam to never stop.

"So close, Dean. I want you to come with me, Dean. Come with me," Sam gasped.

Sam's voice heavy with passion and the intensity of his gaze sent Dean over the edge and the force of the orgasm hit him like a freight train. Unstoppable.

Sam watched Dean throw his head back and felt his muscles clench around him as he came, and then he was gasping Dean's name and coming with such force he could only mouthe Dean's name over and over as he emptied himself into his brother.

Sam collapsed, spent, his mouth resting against Dean's shoulder. Dean ran his fingers through Sam's hair and kissed him gently on the top of his head. They were both waiting for their breathing to return to normal.

Finally, Sam raised his head and looked into Dean's eyes. "Thank you."

Dean laughed, stroking Sam's cheek tenderly. "No. Thank you, Sammy."

Sam smiled slightly and pulled himself out, rolling on his side, his eyes already beginning to close. "Do we have to take another shower?"

"Well, I don't know about you but I'm pretty sticky. Come on, I'll help you."

They walked to the shower arms around each other, and under the spray Dean was the big brother again. He soaped and washed Sam lovingly, his hands gentle. When they made it back to the bedroom, Sam stood swaying while Dean just threw a clean sheet on top of the bed and they crawled under the blankets, Sam snuggling close to Dean's side, arms wrapped around each other.

Dean stroked Sam's hair, his face and said softly, "Go to sleep Sammy. I'm right here."

Tightening his arms around Dean he murmured, "Love you, Dean." And he was asleep.

Dean looked at his little brother and he swore right then and there he would find a way to help him. He didn't care if he had to march right back into Hell to do it but he would find a way. That was his job after all. Always had been. Always would be.

"It'll be okay Sammy. Somehow, it'll be okay. I promise." He kissed him lightly and said, "I love you too, Sammy."

And Sam smiled.

The End


End file.
